The Black Stallion and Hidalgo
by Find the Red Queen
Summary: After running away from a thunderstorm, the Black meets the stallion Hidalgo. R&R Please. NEW CHAPTER ADDED!
1. On the Horizon

_Please Note: I have to have at least five (5) good reviews before I make another chapter._

**On the Horizon**

"Hey, fellow," Alec said, patting the magnificent black stallion's neck. The Black snorted in return and continued grazing. Alec laughed and watched his horse eat. One who would see the Black would expect him to be a champion racehorse—and that was exactly what he was. Just a few days before he had won the Kentucky Derby, and was on to the Preakness in three weeks. It would be great—Alec just knew it.

He shielded his eyes from the relentless sun. It had been a beautiful day that morning and so far had stayed a beautiful day. The Black didn't care about shielding _his _eyes—he was just a stallion, and he didn't mind. Then Alec's hand dropped, for the sun had been obliterated by a dark cloud that rolled across the sky. Alec frowned. How could this happen?

The Black's nose was to the air, scenting. His ears were flat against his head and his nostrils were flaring. He sensed there was a thunderstorm nearing. And the Black didn't like thunderstorms. He whickered nervously, looking to Alec for comfort. But the boy had run off to the barn for the lead shank. The day had been so beautiful that he hadn't expected to bring the Black in. So he'd left the shank in the barn.

_Mistake. _Henry Dailey, the Black's trainer, had always told Alec to be prepared no matter what. The clue to being unsuccessful in the racing industry was underestimating things, ignoring things, and the like. Henry took his job very seriously, and was one of the top trainers and had been one of the top jockeys in his youthful days. Alec trusted him, but today he had forgotten.

The Black was panicking, and Alec hurried over to him, trying to put the halter on his horse's neck. But he couldn't. The Black was resisting, and was growing nervous by the minute. Soon he overwhelmed Alec and screamed. The scream Alec had heard many times. The sharp, shrill noise would fill his ears and he would stand still, stunned. In this case he made another mistake. As soon as he stood still the Black vaulted the fences and galloped off into the horizon.

"Black!" Alec called after him, finally coming to his senses. He ran despairingly to the other end of the paddock. He called his horse's name wildly. Yet all for nothing. How could he expect the Black to return just out of the blue? The Black had always valued his freedom. It was something that nobody, not even his most trusted friend Alec, could take away from him.

But there was nothing to do now. The Black had escaped.

The grulla paint colt watched the horizon. He was the son of Hidalgo, the leader of the herd there. He had just been appointed as guard. And he was curiously regarding a black dot in the distance growing larger and larger and larger. His name was Wind Caller, but most called him just Dirigo (_I lead_ in Spanish), his original name. To be frank with himself, he liked Wind Caller better.

A paint stallion walked up to him regally. He was Hidalgo (_nobleman _in Spanish), Dirigo's father. Hidalgo was the leader of the herd Dirigo was in. "Dirigo, what do you see?" he asked. He squinted into the distance to try to see what Dirigo was seeing. Hidalgo looked hard at Dirigo. "Is it that black dot?" he asked knowingly. Dirigo nodded his white-splotched head.

"I wouldn't be too worried about it," said Hidalgo, still gazing at it with deep concentration. "I doubt it's a stallion, and even if it is I doubt it would cause much harm." He seemed cool and collected. Yet on the inside he was confused. Often he would just sit on the shores of a lake and ask himself who was he. His mate, Eureka (_I found it_), did not approve and claimed that people might think he was crazy. She never really meant it though.

_Of course nothing will happen_, Dirigo thought proudly, turning to gaze at the black dot before turning away. _Dad's got it all taken care of._

How wrong he was.


	2. Mistakes

**PLEASE NOTE**: The next chapter will be added once two (2) good reviews are made. If you are wondering about the 'flicker' parts, it's something that's added when a character is 'flickering' between either thoughts and reality or memories and reality. 

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own the Black, Hidalgo, Alec, or Henry. I **do **own Eureka, Dirigo, and any other made up characters.

**Mistakes**

The Black suddenly halted mid-gallop, hooves scraping the ground as a ditch suddenly appeared in front of him. He lurched forward dangerously, then careened to a stop just as his forelegs began to slide forward. He breathed hard. That was close—too close. The black stallion took some steps back, licking his chapped black lips.

"Who are _you_?" someone asked from behind him, and the Black leapt back in surprise, bumping right into a pretty roan mare. Thick eyelashes batted. He was quite a keeper, this black stag—she didn't enjoy Hidalgo as much. He was just a tiny pony, and was barely any worth to her.

"I'm the Black, the world's finest racehorse," the strange stallion replied. If the mare had eyebrows, she would have been raising them. Hidalgo had told her he was the world's greatest long distance racer, and she hadn't believed that a little Express Pony could take the heat. But with looks like this, she believed him.

"Yeah, and I'm Eureka," she said casually, tossing her black forelock back lazily. "I live in the Flagrantia. We usually go back around just after sunset."

"There's more of you?" the Black asked curiously. He had been in the wild for about two years, and he had gloried in his freedom. It was wonderful to be free, to feel the wind in your face, to run in a wide open space with no boundaries… this was what he loved.

"Of course," Eureka answered, giving him a disbelieving what-you-don't-know-it look. "The Flagrantia is a herd led by the pony Hidalgo, the finest long-distance racer in the world." Her last words were said rather skeptically.

The name 'Hidalgo' had been mentioned at Hopeful Farm, the place where the Black lived, a few times. Alec and Henry had discussed the results of a race between the Black and Hidalgo.

**_Flicker._**

"_No horse could ever beat the Black," Alec said, pulling out his stopwatch. "A half-mile in forty-five and a quarter seconds. Hidalgo couldn't have possibly beat that."_

_Henry shrugged his broad shoulders. "Who knows? The Black is one fast horse, but Hidalgo competed in the Ocean of Fire. He won, when injured and exhausted. Against the purest Arabians in the world. Al-Hattal, Camria, and Hidalgo were the only three who actually appeared out of the hundred Arabians. Three out of a hundred. What do you make of that?"_

"_Well, Hidalgo's sure hardy, and fast too, but he's just a little pony. A shade under fifteen hands. Besides, Frank T. let him loose a couple years back. The chances of Hidalgo and the Black meeting and racing against each other are about one to a million. Some chance."_

_**Flicker.**_

Some chance. Because they met.

"Say, you want to come to Flagrantia and visit a little?" Eureka inquired boldly. The stallion would surely accompany her to Flagrantia.

"Sure," the Black replied, and followed her to a flat grassland that many horses were grazing in. Suddenly, a paint pony-stallion raised his head and bugled in outrage at the sight of _his _mare with another stallion.

The black stallion suddenly went stiff and waited for the paint to attack him. Eureka was backing away slowly. She would receive a punishment from Hidalgo later for letting a black stallion into the land. It was her fault that this battle would take place.

Coolly the Black pawed the ground and challenged Hidalgo with a scream, sharp and shrill. And it was then that Hidalgo attacked.


End file.
